Finnick's Beginning
by fatgirlsarehardertokidnap
Summary: Finnick Odair has been training for the deadly Hunger Games all his life, so why is it, that Annie Cresta, the most ordinary girl in District 4, can distract him with a bat of her eyelashes? Follow Finnick's traumatized life before and during the Games'.
1. Waking

Chapter 1 

I wake slowly. Someone is shaking my shoulder softly and calling my name. It's Marie, our housekeeper. No one else would be waking me at this time. I do my best to ignore her and try to fall back into my blissful dream, with _her_. _Her_ with the delicate lips and the emerald green eyes. _Her_ with tears that can brew up devastating storms and _her_ with the twinkling laughter that can turn the oceans still.

I feel Marie leave my side and I'm almost back with my green eyed angel. Suddenly, I can hear my tall bedroom windows fly open. I jump up from my pillow, wide awake, looking for any signs of danger. But it was just Marie. She stares at me, worried I will hurt her like my father hurts her. But I just laugh it off. I would never like to be compared to my father. Never.

"Marie," I say with a sigh of relief,"You scared me. I can be very dangerous when I'm scared."

She looks back, picking up on my mock-seriousness and I can see a small smile spreading across her face.

"That's what you were trained for, Master Finnick. My apologies for scaring you." Her accent is thick, so anyone can tell that she's from District 12, where they mine coal. She's short, middle aged with olive skin and long black hair piled up on her head in a bun.

She began to plump the pillow where my head was a moment before. My eyes follow her around the room, empty of suspicion and I yawn, run my fingers through my short, bronze curls and look around my bedroom. My blue and green walls, painted to look exactly like the rolling waves of the sea, are pristine clean. My golden trident glimmers as it rests against my oak desk.

"Marie?" I ask.

"Yes, Master Finnick?" She stops plumping my pillows and fetches my training clothes.

"Did you tidy up in here?" She gives a modest nod and picks up my fishing nets,"Well, it looks great! And thanks for waking me up," I say, truly grateful.

I swing my legs out of bed and let my feet dive into the deep, soft carpet. I stand up in just my pants and let the warm rays of sunlight bounce off my body. Marie has been with my family ever since I can remember, so she's seen me semi-clothed loads of times. I let her hand me my fishing shirt. It is white with a single 'F' over where my heart is, for 'Finnick'. I pull it on, letting the soft cotton cling to my muscular torso. Marie then walks downstairs, probably to make me breakfast. I pull trousers on over my swimming shorts and walk across my room to the door.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch my reflection in my bedroom mirror. As I stare at myself, I can't argue that I'm not one of the most stunning, sensuous people on the planet. My tall, athletic structure. The curve of my nose. My handsome face. I could have any of the girls (and probably most of the women) in District 4. But what did they matter? Who were they to me? No one. The only one I'm interested in is her. My girl. No, girl isn't a strong enough word. Angel. No. Goddess. Goddess fits perfectly. I turn away from my duplicate across the room, pick up my trident and fishing nets, then walk into the hallway and close the door behind me.

I creep silently past what used to be my parents' bedroom, but is now just my father's. My mother died when I was eight. That was the first and last fishing trip my father took with her. She'd always been afraid of the the sea; her parents came from the Capitol and brought her here at a young age, where she fell in love with my father. But, somehow, my father persuaded her to come along on one of his fishing trips. An unpredicted storm burst up from the sea, and hit my father's ship. The whole thing was torn to shreds. My father was thrown into the blue abyss. When he resurfaced, there was no sign of my mother. He only survived because of his powerful swimming. He sent hundreds of men to search for her, but she was never found.

Time went by and my father launched himself into work. It paid off and now we live in luxury; we're almost as well-off as some of those in the Capitol, but it doesn't compensate for our loss. Now he just sleeps and orders Marie around. He'll only ever get up to go to extravagant parties at the Capitol. There, he is a rich and well-respected man, coping with the loss of his wife bravely. Here, he is an arrogant, lazy and rude man that can't handle the responsibility of a son. But I'm fourteen now. I can look after myself, even though Marie still fusses over me. But I don't stop her; she's the closest thing I have to a mother now and I'm grateful for her. I'm at the bottom of the stairs now and I can see her pottering about the kitchen, packing bread and cheese for today's fishing and training. I walk over to her, stuff my nets in a shoulder bag, wrap up the food and place it in the bag. I turn to Marie.

"Thanks for lunch, Marie. I'll have a feast." I can see her blush through her dark skin.

"My pleasure, Master Finnick." She says shyly. I give her shoulders a quick squeeze, then walk into the hallway and out of the font door.

The sun is warm and I can see that in the east, the sea is calm. Already, I can tell this will be a good day as I look across my town.


	2. Hunting

Chapter 2

The whole District curves around the south-east coast of Panem and bordered by Districts 3, 11, 2 and 9. District Four is split into three sections; the Pescatori, the Mercato and the Ricco. The Pescatori, the eastern section, is the extreme fishing district. There, you will find the biggest, most delicious and expensive fish in the whole of Panem. People come from all over to try some of the fish that come from those sparkling waters. We used to go there as a family. When I was only 6, my mother took me there and taught me how to make sailing knots. Within no time, I was knotting everything in sight. By the time I was seven, I was even making my own nooses. Of course I didn't know what they were, still, mother forbade to ever make them again and just told me to forget how I did it. So, of course it was immediately, irrevocably branded into my brain.

Many fishermen will catch their fish, then travel to the Mercato section. This is the middle strip of District Four and it's generally the market , there are smaller markets dotted around the District, but this is by far the biggest. The smelly, busy streets are constantly crammed full of stalls, tents and shops selling fishing supplies like rods, nets, hooks, bait and the fish they caught in the Pescatori. One of the few advantages of visiting the Mercato, apart from selling your fish, is the pretty jeweler they sell there. There's a large market for pearls that have been collected from oysters and when stores import jewels from District Two, the Capitol practically beg for bracelets of diamonds and pearls. The price is always high for the jeweler and fish, so usually the only people that can afford them are people who live in the Ricco.

This is the western section of District Four and probably the nicest. Only the wealthiest people live in the Ricco. It's in the Ricco that they built the Victor's Village, a collection of the best houses that the Capitol has to offer, dedicated to the winners of the Hunger Games. In Districts Four, One and Two, the Victor's Villages are much bigger than most other Districts, but everyone knows that they are Career Districts. That means that parents raise their kids to be a tribute in the Games'. Like the Games' are their 'Careers'. It's illegal, but necessary. We need to be prepared for the Games' and we should take pride in representing our community, not fear it.

I live a few miles away from the Victor's Village, which is on a high hill, in the Ricco. I hold my hand up to my head to shade my eyes from the sun and turn to look at it. There is at least thirty houses lining the semi-circle shaped green in front of them. It all looks so beautiful. But really, the house is a reward. A reward for murder. Yet, I want to be there. I want to compete in the Games'. I want to get my father out of bed and make him proud of me. I want to live there in luxury. I know I'm strong enough. I know I could do it. Anyway, the reaping for the 64th Hunger Games' is in just a few short months. I'll take out tesserae for Father and me this year, like every year, and hope for the best. If only I had more siblings, then there would be more chance of me being picked.

With a sigh, I turn my back on the Village and walk into the town. The grass around my garden begins to fade and is replaced with the hard stone that lies beneath the market. Even at this hour, the townspeople are up and eager to sell their wares. I hold up my chin and sniff the air around me. I smell fish, herbs, fruit and lots of wine. I turn to my right and and see 'Mags' Fishing Supplies', an old shop that closed down long before I was born. Mags is the 13th victor from District 4. Now she lives in the Victor's Village with her wealth and food, but she's alone. Occasionally, she'll come into town and the two of us will go fishing. She's always smiling, but I'm sure she's not feeling as happy as she must be so hard for her to mentor someone not much older than a child, then watch them being murdered right in front of her eyes. I peer into the shop window, but my eyes only meet darkness. I stride further into town and catch the eye of Cassie, a girl who runs another fishing stall for her father. I wink at her and in return, she throws me a towel. She knows my routine well, I think, and make a mental note to return it this afternoon. I blow her a kiss and laugh as her face turns bright crimson.

I pick up my feet as I get to the edge of town, wanting to get to my destination, the beach. There's a small nest of rocks there, so I usually sit on the sand, propped up by a slab of stone, watching the waves roll towards me. No one knows about this place, not even her. It's the one place I can relax by myself, without a troupe of girls stalking me. I walk on and feel the uneven softness of the sand beneath my shoes, so I take them off and let the baked ground warm my feet. I walk as if I'm going to my hide-out, then turn left at the last minute, heading down the beach. In the distance, I see a familiar clump of grass sticking out of the sand, a bag lying next to it, and then an even more familiar clump of hair hiding behind it. Her. My heartbeat unexplainably speeds up and I see pair of golden legs emerge from the grass. Annie! Annie, Annie, Annie! A huge grin that reaches from ear to ear blossoms on my face.

"Annie!" I call out. But I'm not covering the distance between us fast enough, so I break into a sprint. She stands up in response to her name, sees me, and even though I'm almost there, she runs to meet me, too.

We embrace. It's been at least three weeks since I last saw her; her mother took a turn for the worst and she had to provide constant care for her. I paid for a doctor to visit her and he confirmed the town's rumors, that Annie's mother was mentally unstable. Her father had been out on a trip to the Pescatori and came back to find his wife gone round the bend. Now, he regards family as the most important thing and hasn't let Annie out of sight for one minute. He only agreed to let her come out today because the family were running low on fish.

I take a step back from her and remember who I am. Annie and I agreed a long time ago that we couldn't be together because of the Games'. We both chose the Games' over each other and it has to stay like that, for our families, our training and ourselves. I give her a sad smile as I remember this and as I look into her sea-green eyes, I can see that she's thinking the same thing.

"How's your mother?" I ask, still breathless from running. I can see the happiness I brought with me disappear from her eyes for just second, but she quickly plastered on an unconvincing smile.

"Um, well... She's... good. Better, in fact." Her response was about as unconvincing as her smile and straight away I know that it was the wrong question to ask. Not wanting to hug her again for fear of getting too close to her, I take her hand and pull her down the beach, forcing her into a walk. She's pretends to pull a strand of hair away from her face, wipes her eyes and takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Annie, that was the wrong thing to ask. Anyway, I have to train today, but I'll fish with you first." I look up from my feet to her face, trying to decipher her expression."If you want, of course." I say, hoping that she does.

"Of course I do, Finnick!" She snaps, but a smile is spreading on her face. "But... I'll only train with you if you beat me to the lagoon!"

"Wait-what? Like a race? You are going to try to beat me, Finnick Odair-" I begin arrogantly. But she's already whipped off her sandals and made a good 7-8 metres between us. I start to jog. "Hey, Annie! Wait for me!" She turns round, the wind blowing her hair in all directions.

"It's a race! But you should give up now. I mean, you are going to try and beat me, Annie Cresta-" But she cuts off with a gasp as I sprint to her side.

We run at the same speed though, in harmony. Neither of us can ever win; her small, nimble frame and quick steps match my tall, athletic structure and slow, long strides. We reach the lagoon at the same time. It's a beautiful place. The large pool of deep, clear water is lined with a few boulders. We stand there, breathing heavily and admiring the view. I smile as I see our little den, nestled in the corner of the lagoon. It's just a water-proof sheet wedged over a couple of the boulders, hanging like a roof with a few pieces of dry wood inside, but it holds so many memories.

When I first met Annie, I was eight. It was the day my mother died. My father told me what happened to Mother and I grabbed a blanket and ran and ran and ran. I ended up at the lagoon, soaking wet, and crawled under a tarpaulin someone had put up. I backed into Annie, who was sleeping, but instead of screaming, she saw my tears and gave me a big hug. At this time, I was a complete stranger to her, but still, she reached into her bag, handed me some fish-shaped bread and water, and stroked my hair until I fell asleep. I woke up and told her everything about my mother, and then she told me about how her mother was getting ill. We bonded quickly, trained together. After a while, we realized that, as Careers', we must choose the Games'. Still, every other day, we meet to train and fish.

We clamber down the rocks and jump under the shade of our den. I pull out things from my bag and break off some cheese and bread for Annie. "Here you are." I say, handing her the food. She smiles and takes a bite. After a while, I realize I'm still sweaty from running. I walk out into the sun, strip down to my swim shorts and dive into the lagoon, letting the cool, silky water engulf me. I resurface just in time to see an Annie-shaped figure jump in after me in her green bikini. I look up into the sun and smile; my days with Annie are my favorite days.


End file.
